Split
by London Slattery
Summary: This story was written completely for larfs. But it is JackSam.
1. Chapter One

Title: Split  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Spoilers: I don't think there's any, actually!  
  
Summary: This whole story is meant to be funny and thus things might seem, uh, "out of character" at certain points in the story. And I don't want to give anything away, so just read it and let me know what you think.  
  
Notes: This is a complete parody story that I wrote one afternoon for a larf. It turned out to be more popular than I expected, so I continued it, and, like most things I write, it's a work in progress. Enjoy!  
  
***  
  
"Move over, Sam," Special Agent Jack Malone whispered to his fellow agent, Special Agent Samantha Spade. "I'm coming," he whispered, tiptoeing past Samantha, sliding along the wall of a darkened hallway inside of a nearly vacant apartment house, deep in the heart of New York City.  
  
"Be careful, Jack," Samantha whispered in reply, tightening the grip on her Glock as they approached apartment 29-B.  
  
Jack and Samantha had been following up on a lead concerning a kidnapping. The victim was a fourteen year old female, and she had been missing for over a month and a half. They had received an anonymous tip from someone saying that the victim could be found in the Parkside Apartments in 29-B. Even if it their anonymous friend turned out to be wrong, the least they could do was follow up on a legitimate lead, seeing as how the last time the girl had been seen was on the front steps of the convenience store across the street from the Parkside Apartments with an unidentified middle- aged male.  
  
"Michael Juarez?" Jack asked, lightly tapping on the door, tucking his gun under his belt. He motioned for Samantha to do the same, as they were only there to investigate, not arrest. "Hello? This is Special Agent Jack Malone of the FBI, and I'd like to ask you some questions about Angelina Ramirez." No answer.  
  
"Something smells fishy about this," Samantha whispered, and Jack nodded.  
  
"You're not kidding," he replied, making a sour face as Samantha pulled the door open, surprised to see that it was unlocked. They both tentatively stepped inside the reeking apartment, closing the door behind them.  
  
Inside, the apartment was a mess. Newspapers covered in animal excrement littered the floor, along with numerous large cardboard boxes, empty cans of cat food, some cement blocks and other building debris, and large plastic bags, some full of garbage, some full of cans and bottles waiting to be returned to the store for a deposit. The smell was overpowering. Jack and Sam exchanged a look as two kittens came out of a bedroom to investigate who was there.  
  
"Call animal control," Jack instructed, carefully stepping over and in between piles of feces. "I don't think anyone's here," he continued, stepping into the first empty bedroom, peering inside the empty closet and stepping out. "This place is unbelievable." He proceeded to check the first empty bedroom and the small kitchenette, while Samantha placed the call in to Animal Control.  
  
"Hello, this is Agent Samantha Spade of the FBI. I'm calling about some kittens which are living under the care of Michael Juarez..." Samantha finished the call in right around the time that Jack walked out of the second bedroom, his search of the apartment complete. "Did you find anything?" Samantha asked, her eyes wide and expectant. Jack shook his head.  
  
"There was one thing that made me curious, though," Jack began, a smile playing on his lips. "Come with me," he said, motioning for Samantha to follow him. He lead her into the second bedroom and over to a small crawlspace-closet, which had a thick padlock over the small door.  
  
"What do you think is in there?" Samantha asked, trying to pull the tiny door open, which didn't budge. She leaned in closer and took a whiff of the small door. Almost gagging, she promptly backed away, gasping for air. "Oh my god," she gasped. Jack grimly nodded.  
  
"Perfect place for a small body, don't you think?" he asked, helping her up.  
  
"Yeah, perfect place for something," she responded as they headed out towards the main door. "If we can get some kind of warrant, even one based on—" Samantha motioned around the cluttered, messy living space, "This mess from Animal Control, we can find out what's in that closet before it gets moved..."  
  
Samantha's voice trailed off as a noise filled the room. Their heads snapped in unison towards the door as they saw the handle turn. Instinctually, Jack and Samantha pulled out their guns and took aim at the door. A second later, the door opened and in walked a small, greasy little man with thick coke bottle glasses.  
  
"Hmmm," the small man pondered, looking around at Jack and Samantha, guns drawn. He waddled over to them, inquisitively.  
  
"Who the hell are you?" Jack asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. Samantha caught the slight change in Jack's voice and dropped her gun, resuming her call to animal control.  
  
"I am Michael Juarez," the man screeched in a voice that could make a chalkboard jealous. "Who are YOU?" he squealed.  
  
"I'm Special Agent Jack Malone with the FBI, and this is Special Agent Spade," Jack answered, not quite believing that this little shrimp in front of him was the big, bad Michael Juarez.  
  
"Hmmm," Michael thought aloud. "What do you WANT?" he screamed, adjusting his glasses which had slid down his grimy nose.  
  
"Uh, we wanted to talk to you about a Angelina Ramirez," Jack answered, a smile threatening to break out on his face. This Michael Juarez character was just too much.  
  
"HHHMMMM..." Michael answered, his voice going up an octave. Samantha and Jack exchanged a look.  
  
"Do you know her?" Samantha asked, taking over the questioning, while Jack tried to wipe the smile off his face.  
  
"Hmmm..." Michael thought, calculating an appropriate answer. "I met her once!" he finally squealed, looking around nervously. Jack raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Hey, Michael," Jack began, leaning in close to the shorter man. "I have a question for you," he continued, leading Michael and Samantha into the second bedroom. "What's in there?" he asked, pointing to the small closet, which was just the right height for Michael to walk into.  
  
"Why do you need to know that?" Michael asked nervously.  
  
"Look, we already called Animal Control to come and take care of those kittens you have living in this shit hole of an apartment, and we can get a warrant from them, if you'd like. Or," Jack finished, a sardonic smile taking shape on his face, "You can open it for us."  
  
"Hmm..." Michael thought, finally jumping forward and kicking Jack right in his shin. Samantha instantly reached to pull out her gun, but Michael was too fast and had already raced out of the room.  
  
"SHIT," Jack cursed, rubbing his leg. "That pipsqueak must have steel-toed shoes..." he said, pulling out his gun and following Samantha out the door.  
  
"Cover me," she said, sliding around the wall and aiming into the main room of the apartment. Michael was nowhere to be seen. Scanning around the room, Samantha finally turned to Jack. "Where did he go?" she asked, keeping her gun up.  
  
"We would've heard him open the door," Jack answered, looking around the mess and clutter. "He's got to be here...somewhere..." He looked around the room again, which was quiet and still, except for the kittens lazily rolling around in the corner.  
  
Jack and Samantha stepped further into the room and began kicking around boxes, trying to find the short man. After about five minutes of searching, a noise from behind Jack made him stop and turn around. As he did so, Michael popped out from behind a box and smashed Jack over the head with a cement block. 


	2. Chapter Two

"Jack?" Maria Malone whispered, tenderly rubbing her husband's temples, which were covered under a thick layer of gauze and dried blood. Jack moaned and blinked several times. His vision was blurred, and he was rather surprised to see his wife standing over him, looking very concerned.  
  
"Last time I saw you...you said you'd had enough of me and my bullshit," Jack murmured, closing his eyes again. He and Maria had been legally separated for six months, and going through a fairly rocky divorce. Licking his dry lips, he opened his eyes again and tried to figure out what had happened to him and where he was. "My mouth is like cotton," he said hoarsely, looking around for some water. Maria handed him some ice chips, which he gratefully accepted. "So what do you want?" he finally asked, once he regained his voice some more.  
  
"Is that what I get for being concerned about you?" Maria's voice hardened with obvious insult. Jack sighed and tried to rolls his blurry eyes. He had heard this speech far too many times in the past fifteen years.  
  
"No, Maria...that's not what I meant," Jack began, trying to sit up. As he propped himself up on his pillows, he was overcome with a wave of dizziness and weakness, promptly falling back on the bed.  
  
"Jack!" Maria gasped, putting a hand on his forehead. "Are you ok?" she whispered, tears filling her eyes. "I...I'm sorry," she whispered, stroking his hair as he slowly opened his eyes again, his pupils still dilated. "I don't mean to fight with you every time I see you..."  
  
She was cut off by a quiet knock on the door.  
  
"Come in," Jack hoarsely called out, trying to pull away from Maria's hands. It was Samantha. Jack managed a smile.  
  
Tears spilling out over onto Maria's cheeks were quickly wiped away as she excused herself, mumbling something about sending the girls over for a visit whenever he got out of the hospital. Maria closed the door behind her, leaving Samantha and Jack alone.  
  
"Everything ok?" Samantha asked, gingerly sitting down on the edge of Jack's bed. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it, smiling at his eyes which were still rolling from the dramatic exit of his former wife.  
  
"She was the one who wanted a divorce..." Jack began, propping himself up a little bit higher on his pillows, wary of falling back down again. Samantha nodded and let Jack rant for a few minutes about the horror that was Maria. After he was finished, he grabbed some more ice chips and looked expectantly up at Samantha. She looked back down at him, inquisitively.  
  
"What?" she asked, furrowing her brow.  
  
"You mind telling me what the hell happened?" he asked, raising a bandaged eyebrow. Samantha laughed, relieved to see Jack wasn't too injured to still have his cocky sense of humor.  
  
"Well, Sleeping Beauty, we've been waiting for you to wake up for two days now. We got Michael Juarez on assaulting you, which gave us the warrant to not only arrest him, but also to search his place, and guess what we found in that small closet..."  
  
"Leftovers," Jack replied, while Samantha grimly nodded.  
  
"We found the remains of four other bodies, too, and all of them can be tied to Michael Juarez, so we gave it to the DA, and he's in the process of building a case against him as we speak," she finished, looking triumphant.  
  
"Who called the parents?" Jack asked, hoping it was already done and over with so he wouldn't get stuck with the job of informing the decedent's relatives.  
  
"I did. They were devastated at first, but they were able to give her a burial and everything, so cutting to the chase, everyone's happy." Samantha frowned. "Well, as happy as can be expected." Jack nodded slightly, as to not disturb his delicate equilibrium again.  
  
"So when do I get to get out of here?" Jack asked.  
  
"Well," Samantha replied, "Considering you received a pretty big blow—" Jack's eyebrows raised and Samantha made a face, relieved to see that her boss' somewhat skewed sense of humor was there still, too, "—to your head, you'll probably be kept for the concussion that you already have, plus they'll want to run some tests on you." Jack fell back into the pillow, groaning.  
  
"I can't stand being cooped up in here..." he grumbled, wondering if there were some strings he could pull to get out earlier. "Is my phone in here?" he asked, looking around for his clothing, blatantly ignoring the 'No Cell Phone' rule that was posted within five feet of his bed.  
  
Nodding, Samantha reached over into a small paper bag which held his personal effects, sitting on a shelf below his nightstand. She pulled out his cell phone and handed it to him, getting up and patting Jack on the forearm. "See you later," she whispered, squeezing his hand once more before leaving.  
  
"Yeah, Bill? It's Jack. No, no, I'm fine. Look...I need you to do me a favor..." 


	3. Chapter Three

"So what's going on?" Jack asked, walking into the office a mere day and a half later. Special Agent Vivian Johnson stood up, looking amazed. Samantha rolled her eyes. She knew Jack had arranged for an early discharge, and she thought it was rather stupid of him, too.  
  
"You're out already?" Vivian asked, standing up to greet Jack. He smiled and nodded, eager to begin working on another case. "Welcome back, Jack. How are you feeling?" Vivian asked.  
  
"Fine," Jack answered, a bit impatiently. "I'm perfectly fine. So what's going on?" he asked for the second time.  
  
"Are you sure you're up for working already?" Vivian asked him, cocking her head to study her superior better. Jack gave her a look.  
  
"YES, Viv. Yes, I'm sure I'm fine," Jack replied, taking the papers out of her hands and skimming them. He scanned the papers and looked over at Vivian, confused. She promptly snatched them back.  
  
"That's my son's report card," she said with a smile, handing Jack a different stack of papers. "This is our case. Name's Carrie Richards. Age twenty-nine. Missing since day before yesterday, approximately forty- nine hours. Last seen..." Vivian's voice trailed off as Jack began twitching. Samantha just stared at Jack. "Jack, why don't you sit down," Vivian suggested, pushing a chair towards him. He sat down in the chair, still twitching a bit. Vivian looked at Samantha and shook her head, knowing very well that it was pointless to argue with Jack about anything, let alone his state of health. She sat down across from Jack and folded her hands. "Jack," Vivian began, as Jack turned to face her, still slightly twitching. "What did the doctors say to you before you left the hospital?" she asked.  
  
"They said that I would get dizzy spells and might have a twitch every now and again," Jack offered, while Samantha rolled her eyes once again and promptly stood up.  
  
"I'm gonna go question the boyfriend," she said, walking away from Vivian and Jack, grabbing Special Agent Danny Taylor 's arm, dragging him along with her. "Come ON," she said, nearly stomping towards the elevator. Danny gave her a confused look, but knew better than to argue. Vivian gave Jack a wary look.  
  
"I'm going to go grab Martin and question the roommate who's been away for the past week," Vivian said, standing up. Giving Jack one long last look, she handed him the remainder of the notes and the paper containing a tentative timeline. "Here's the rest of the case specs," she began, stopping when she saw Jack's eyes glaze over and begin to cross. Jack shook his head slightly and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "Jack, you really should go home and get some rest," she said in a quiet, concerned voice before turning and heading towards the elevator.  
  
"Aye, matie," he murmured, and headed for his office. Vivian stopped dead in her tracks and cocked her head. She finally turned around to Special Agent Martin Fitzgerald, who was staring after Jack, too.  
  
"WHAT did he say?" Vivian asked, squinting after Jack.  
  
"It was a good impression of an Australian accent," Martin offered, standing up and heading towards the elevator. "I'll meet you downstairs," he said right before the double doors closed, leaving Vivian to stare after her boss in amazement. 


	4. Chapter Four

A few hours later, Samantha and Danny returned with a not only a lot of notes to catch everyone up on, but also a few leads that needed following. Excited for the sudden turn the case was taking, Samantha hurried over to Jack's office, where she found Vivian and Martin standing outside, looking cautiously at the door.  
  
"What's going on?" she asked, momentarily forgetting about Carrie Richards. Vivian sighed and pointed to the door, when a sudden crash caused all three to jump. "What's going on in there?" Samantha asked, staring wide- eyed at the door, where another smash sounded, complete with breaking glass.  
  
"We don't know," Martin sighed, "But he's been at it for almost half an hour now. We don't want to just go in..."  
  
Samantha stared at her coworkers in amazement.  
  
"What's wrong with you two?" she asked, shaking her head. "He might be injured in there, and you won't even check on him? What's your problem?" she demanded, clearly disgusted at them both.  
  
"Well, we can't just barge in there," Martin said nervously, while Vivian just raised an eyebrow.  
  
"What Martin means is that we don't have that kind of relationship with Jack that...other agents might have where they would feel comfortable interrupting Jack at what seems to be a..." Vivian chose her words carefully, "...difficult time for him," she finally finished.  
  
Samantha knew what Vivian was insinuating, and wasn't in the mood to hear it. "Augh!" she grunted, reaching for the handle. Martin grabbed her hand.  
  
"Hey, be careful in there," he said seriously. Samantha shook him off and pulled the door open.  
  
"Jack?" she asked, stepping in and closing the door behind her. "Jack, what's the matter?!" she exclaimed, stepping towards the sobbing man with his head down on the desk. "Jack?" Samantha tried again, putting a hand on the back of his head, which snapped away from her hand quicker than a candle blowing out.  
  
"MY PICTURES WERE CROOKED!" Jack sobbed, a slight lisp tainting his usual gruff New York accent. He pointed to the smashed photographs on his desk. Samantha looked confused.  
  
"So...what? Someone was in here while you were out?" she asked, trying to catch Jack's drift.  
  
"NO, someone wasn't in here," Jack replied in a mocking voice. "It means whoever runs this office has no sense of style! No taste!" Jack stood up, outreaching his arms to motion around the office. "No...flair!" he finished, looking at a baffled Samantha.  
  
"Uh..." she began, not sure what to say, but Jack cut her off again.  
  
"And my name isn't JACK," he said, the New York accent vanished and the lisp more pronounced now that he had finished crying, yet prounouncing his name in an overly gruff New York accent. "It's...Jacques," he said, pronouncing the name in an exaggerated French accent after what was supposed to be a dramatic pause. Samantha just stared.  
  
"And just LOOK at this suit," he howled, while prancing around his office. "I mean, ugh, WHO dressed me?" he moaned, looking down at his simple black suit with his favorite red tie. "Was he blind?! Is he DEAF to what these colors are SCREAMING?! DEATH!!!" Jack screamed, causing Samantha to jump back. "I am NOT going to a funeral any time today...well," he looked down and fingered his suit. "Maybe the funeral of these clothes..."  
  
"But Jack," Samantha started, while Jack held up a finger and gave her a dark look. "I mean, Jacques," she corrected herself, "That's your favorite suit!" she said, shaking her head, suddenly wondering why she was talking with Jack about his wardrobe when there were several hot leads burning holes in her hands. "Here," she said, thrusting the papers at him. "Have a look at this," she said, trying to change the subject back to work.  
  
"Ugh, look at what? I'm a bit busy now, darling," Jack said, sighing. "You wouldn't happen to have an emery board, would you, dear?" he asked, while extending his fingers to examine his nails.  
  
"Uh...n-no," Samantha finally answered, realizing that there was something seriously wrong with her boss.  
  
"Well, I suppose it doesn't matter, anyways. I have a manicure to go to at three anyways," he said, smiling at Samantha. "Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea for you either, sweetheart," he added without a hint of subtlety. Samantha blinked several times before taking her papers back and promptly backed out Jack's office.  
  
Waiting outside the door for her were Vivian, Martin, and Danny, too. The three agents looked expectantly at her, while she slammed Jack's door.  
  
"Well?" Danny finally asked.  
  
"Just don't get caught calling him Jack," Samantha murmured, handing them each some papers to sift through before they began following up on her leads. She quickly hurried to her desk to make some phone calls, leaving the three adults standing in front of Jack's door, staring after her.  
  
"What do you think she meant by that?" Danny asked, skimming the paper Samantha had handed him.  
  
"I don't know, and I'm not sure I want to find out," Martin replied, flipping pages. "Come on, let's go see this Dennis guy," he said, steering Danny away towards the elevator. "We'll meet back here around five and touch base, okay, Viv?"  
  
"Sounds good," she replied, feeling uneasy. The case was shaping up nicely, but something was up with Jack, and she was sure it had something to do with him leaving the hospital early. 


	5. Chapter Five

"Where is he? Where he go?" a small Chinese lady screamed, running into Danny outside the federal building at quarter to five.  
  
"Whoa, whoa. Where did who go?" Danny asked her, stopping her from running inside. She tried to shake him off, but he had a firm grip on her frail arms.  
  
"I see him run in here! The Australian man!" she screamed. "And he no pay for his manicure!" she added, giving Danny a dangerous look which made him glad that he was forced to pack heat.  
  
"Who didn't pay for his manicure? What Australian?" Danny asked, confused as to who she was talking about. "What's his name?"  
  
"He call himself Jackie," she replied, balling her fists. "He get full manicure today and he leave and no pay!" Her brown eyes narrowed into slits. "He say there no way he get manicure, and I KNOW he get cause I give to him!" She threw her hands up in the air, breaking his grasp on her. "I spend almost TWO HOUR giving him perfect nails and hands and he leave, say real man don't get manicure, and say he real man!"  
  
Danny's mind slowly processed what the lady was saying. Confused as he was, he reached into his back pocked, pulling out his wallet. "How much did the manicure cost?" he asked.  
  
"Thirty dollar," she answer, holding out her hand. Danny sighed and handed her the money. She promptly turned around and walked back through the streets back to the parlor. Suddenly Danny's cell phone rang, right as he entered the lobby of the federal building.  
  
"Agent Taylor," he answered, walking towards the elevators and pressing the "UP" button. "What? Viv, what do you mean...ok, ok, I'll be there in a few minutes, I'm in the lobby now. Ok, yeah, I'll be there now," he answered and hung up the phone, heading towards the stairs. He wondered what could be so important as he had to race up three flights of stairs, but did it all the same.  
  
Panting, he came up to Vivian and Martin, who were staring at Jack, who was in an all-out argument with Samantha.  
  
"Jack, you need to go see a doctor!" she protested, putting her hands on her hips.  
  
"It's JACKIE, how many times do I have to tell you?" he snarled, speaking in a thick Australian accent. Danny's eyes bugged out of his head.  
  
"What is going on?" he whispered to Vivian, who was shaking her head.  
  
"He says his name is Jackie, and he doesn't feel like working on the case unless there are some wild animals involved," she sighed. "He keeps calling Sam a 'kangaroo', if that helps any."  
  
Danny's mind churned and suddenly it clicked with what the Chinese woman had been talking about.  
  
"Holy...hey, listen to this..." he quickly filled in Vivian and Martin about what the Chinese woman had told him. Their eyes grew wide in disbelief, and all of their heads snapped around as they heard a loud SMACK from the direction of Jack and Samantha. Jack was holding his cheek and looking at Samantha with wide eyes. With a swift motion of his hand, he promptly smacked her back.  
  
"What did you do that for?" Jack asked, his Australian accent gone and his lisp back in full swing. Everyone stared at Jack, including Samantha, who now had a small trickle of blood making a trail down from her nostril to her chin.  
  
"You asshole," Samantha said, her voice breaking, and she threw her notes down on her desk for the other agents to review while she stormed out. Immediately after, Jack looked at the mess on the floor, the blood on his hand, and everyone's shocked faces.  
  
"What?" he asked, his voice back to normal. Rubbing his hands together, he looked at his team with raised eyebrows. "Do I have something hanging outta my nose?" he asked jokingly, walking over to the desk and picking up some loose notes. "People, we've got a case on our hands, now is not the time to have staring contests," he said, his patience running thin. Flipping through the papers, he stopped for a moment, studies his nails, and looked at everyone. "Do my nails seem...I dunno...shinier to anyone?" When no one answered, he shook it off and went back to the notes.  
  
Snapping out of their temporary dazes, the other agents shook the cobwebs from their heads and picked up right where they left off with Jack, wondering what the hell they had all just witnessed. 


	6. Chapter Six

The next morning, Jack was late, and no one was very surprised.  
  
"Maybe he decided to take a sick day," Vivian suggested, sipping her coffee.  
  
"Mm-mm, not Jack," Samantha responded, sitting down next to Vivian. "He's too stubborn. He's got to be late for another reason."  
  
"Maybe he was arrested for refusing to pay more Chinese nail ladies," Danny suggested, a devil's gleam in his eye, as he stirred some sugar into his coffee. Martin shook his head.  
  
"Don't even suggest that, man," Martin said, running a hand through his hair and plopping down across from Samantha. "He already called and said he'd be late today. Didn't say why, though."  
  
"How did he sound?" Samantha asked, her voice slightly clipped.  
  
"Gay," was Martin's immediate response. Samantha winced.  
  
"You guys, I think this is something that needs to be taken more seriously," Vivian said, while Danny quipped on about wrist motions and sipped his coffee with his pinkie raised. "There could be something really wrong with him, especially after a blow to the head like that," she finished, folding her hands and looking at her coworkers.  
  
"Oh, come on. He'll be ok. I mean, can we really expect him to just be himself after a bang on the head like that?" Danny asked, sitting back in his chain and folding his hands behind his head.  
  
"Come on, Vivian's right," Martin said, giving Danny a warning look, while Samantha just stared into the depths of her coffee cup. Just then, Danny gasped.  
  
"Elvis?" he asked, rubbing his eyes, as a man in a lavender-purple suit came walking towards them. He had on a frilled white shirt and polished white shoes. His tie was a light blue and complimented the suit rather well. As the man approached them, Samantha let out a small gasp, then a sob, and raced away to the bathroom. Martin followed her, making sure she was all right.  
  
"Good morning, Jack," Vivian said, unfazed, offering the man a tight smile. He smiled back, but only slightly.  
  
"It's Jacques," he said, correcting her. She raised her eyebrows and nodded.  
  
"Good morning, Jacques," she said. Jack smiled and pranced into his office Right before Jack stepped into his office, he stopped and looked back at Vivian, his eyes lighting up.  
  
"You know what this place needs?" Jack asked, a wide smile taking over his face.  
  
"No, Jacques. What does it need?" Vivian asked, folding her hands.  
  
"Curtains!" Jack exclaimed, and raced into his office. Vivian looked up at Danny, giving him a deadpan look.  
  
"Now are you convinced?" she asked. "Your boss who couldn't even match two socks together three days ago is in his office probably ordering curtains for the whole building as we speak."  
  
"I'm convinced," he said, shaking his head. "Boy, am I convinced." 


	7. Chapter Seven

Thirty minutes later, Jack came wandering out of the office rubbing his head. He walked straight over to the group of desks in the middle and cleared his throat.  
  
"Ahem," he said, waiting for someone to acknowledge him. Danny finally looked up.  
  
"Uh, hi, Jacques," he said, smiling.  
  
"Hey, Taylor, is that some kind of sick joke?" Jack asked. "You think this is funny?" he continued, motioning down towards his clothing. "What the HELL happened to me?" When no one answered, Jack tapped his foot like an impatient parent. "I'm not asking again," he warned.  
  
"You dressed like that yourself this morning," Samantha blurted, putting her pencil down and staring up at Jack with narrowed, challenging eyes.  
  
"Bullshit," Jack said, dismissing Samantha in a heartbeat. "I wouldn't dress like this, you KNOW that," he said, getting nasty with her. "You've seen my closet," he added, a sardonic tone in his voice. The other agents locked eyes and immediately dispersed.  
  
"Oh, look at the time...I'm gonna go call the records department..."  
  
"I have an interrogation with some of the vic's friends downtown..."  
  
"I need to return my son's call really quick..."  
  
Samantha looked to her coworkers for some support, but they quickly disappeared, leaving her alone with Jack. Clearing her throat, she turned her gaze back into Jack's eyes, keeping them steady and unforgiving.  
  
"Well?" Jack asked, a note of sarcasm in his voice.  
  
"Jack..." Samantha got up to stand face to face with her boss. "We're all really worried about you. No one did anything to you today. You came in here flouncing around talking about...curtains..." Samantha bit her lip, waiting to see Jack's reaction.  
  
"Oh, I get it," Jack said, pulling off his tacky lavender coat and loosening his baby blue tie. "Pull a fast one on the guy that blacks out every now and again...very nice, guys. I'm gonna remember this when it comes time for your reviews. I mean, what if someone important saw me dressed like this? Do you know what that would do to the credibility of this agency?" Jack continued to rant for about a minute until Samantha had finally had enough.  
  
"Jack!" Samantha exclaimed, exasperated. "No one is playing a joke on you...try to get that through your thick head..."  
  
"I'm going home to change. And I want," Jack picked up a piece of paper off of Samantha's desk, "Each and every one of these leads followed up on by the time I get back. We've gotta get this case wrapped up, and my agents are playing pranks instead of working, like they should be doing..." Jack stormed off to the elevator, debating taking off his pants and wondering which was worse: a pantless subway ride or a subway ride in purple pants.  
  
As soon as the doors closed on Jack, the other three agents crowded Samantha, as all had been eavesdropping. Each had something to say, but Samantha held up a hand and simply began asking who wanted what lead to follow. After each had decided where to go, they sat down for an emergency "The Boss Has Gone Mad" meeting. They decided that the situation seemed hopeless, and the more this played out before them, the more they became convinced that it was time to call in his superiors. Knowing what that could do to Jack's job, Samantha and the other agents chose against it, but didn't rule it out completely. 


	8. Chapter Eight

"AYE!" Jack called, strutting in the office two hours later. By some miracle, they'd actually managed to follow up on a lead that took them right to Carrie Richards, and she was already with the police, making a statement downtown.  
  
"That's one happy ending," Samantha thought, feeling the pit of her stomach drop as she saw the khaki-clad Jack come strutting up to her.  
  
"I've wrestled alligators before," he bragged, in his heavy Australian accent.  
  
"Oh, really," she responded, raising an eyebrow. "Are there a lot of alligators in New York?" she asked.  
  
"Nope. They're all in the Outback," he responded, reaching into his pocket for a small silver container. He unscrewed the cap and squirted some green goop out onto his fingertips, spreading the green sludge all over his nose and cheeks.  
  
"Uh...what are you doing, uh...Jackie?" she asked warily.  
  
"Sunscreen," he replied. "Also acts as a natural bug repellant," he said, smiling. Samantha just nodded and began walking towards Vivian, with every intention of getting Jack's superiors on the phone ASAP. Jack smiled after her, and headed into his office, jumping over every "obstacle" that was in his path. As soon as his door closed, Samantha grabbed the phone, hissing to Vivian, "I don't care what this is—some dissociative identity disorder...whatever it is...he needs help, and it's time we FORCED him—"  
  
Vivian grabbed the phone from Samantha and hung it up, mid-dial.  
  
"Samantha, as much as I think Jack needs some help, getting him fired, which this is exactly the kind of excuse they're looking for, and you know that," Vivian was sure to add, staring Samantha in the eyes, "Is not the answer we're looking for. We need him to go back into the hospital before this weekend, too."  
  
"Why before this weekend?" Samantha asked, her head cloudy.  
  
"Because Maria's giving him the girls this weekend," Vivian responded, looking Samantha dead in the eyes. "Just imagine Jack in the state he's in now trying to care for two little girls." Samantha did, and shuddered at the possible outcomes. Nodding, she agreed with Vivian's assessment.  
  
"Well, any ideas how we could get him back in there?" Samantha asked, leaning in closer to Vivian.  
  
"Well, I'm no expert..." Vivian began, folding her hands, "But another bump to the head could get him sent back in again." She held up her hands. "But before you say anything, I know what you're thinking. We can't bonk our boss. But just hear me out. Jack is still in the process of recovering from a very serious concussion, and even the slightest bump could be very serious, and so as a precaution, he would have to get checked out again, no matter how slight the, uh, bump."  
  
Samantha thought for a moment, processing what Vivian was implying.  
  
"Are you suggesting that we 'bump' him?" Samantha slowly asked, still thinking. Vivian was nodding, when Samantha rubbed her hands together, thinking about the vicious slap she recieved from 'Jacques'. "Oh, allow me," she said slowly, a small smile breaking out on her freckled face for the first time since the fateful search for Mr. Michael Juarez. Vivian shook her head, chuckling to herself.  
  
"Do whatcha gotta, Sam," she responded, smiling. "Now we just gotta plan when," Vivian said.  
  
"And how," Samantha finished, her eyes flashing. She would get the old Jack back, even if it meant beating the crap out of both of the new Jack's. 


End file.
